


Song For You

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 23:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A high-school AU where Liam has yet to come out of his shell, and then he meets the new kid from Doncaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my friends via Twitter that helped me continue this!
> 
> disclaimer: this is entirely fictional, isn't meant to infer anything about these actual people. don't share this with anyone that it's written about, please.

_Staring blankly ahead  
Just making my way  
Making my way through a crowd  
  
  
_“If I did this correctly,” Liam mutters to himself, teeth clamping down on the end of his pencil, squinting at the board. “I should have gotten 2x-8y.”  
  
  
He glances down at his graph paper and sighs, because his answer isn’t even _close_ to that and it’s his third attempt at the problem in class that day. He crumples the paper up and sinks down in his seat, aimlessly scribbling at the bottom of the page.  
  
  
“Relax, mate,” Niall leans forward and grabs Liam’s shoulders, shaking him. “No need to get your panties all twisted. Just a math problem.” He sits back in his seat and Liam looks back at him, narrowing his eyes.  
  
  
It’s times like these that Liam loathes Niall; he really does. He hates the way that Niall’s pencil is tucked behind his ear – has been since class started. Hates the way he drums his fingers on the edge of his desk, whistling some catchy pop song he heard on the radio this morning, until Liam has to turn around and holler that he should _stop it_ , because it’s _loud_ and _annoying_ and Liam _can’t concentrate_.  
  
  
“It’s not _just a math problem_ if your entire grade depends on this next exam!” Liam snaps, glaring at Niall.  
  
  
He raises his palms slowly, eyes widening in mock intimidation, and tries to disguise the laughter that spills out of his mouth with a lame cough. “Liam Payne,” Niall whispers, shaking his head. “Do not snap at me. You’re not the snapping type, mate.”  
  
  
“Shut up,” Liam’s voice is indignant and Niall pretends to zip his mouth up and throw away the key.  
  
  
The peace and quiet Liam has been secretly wishing for all class lasts all of 30 seconds before the bell rings and Niall stands up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and twisting his snapback on his head backwards. Liam takes his time gathering his things, because on a normal day, Niall is never in a rush for anything.  
  
  
“Gotta go, Ms. Powers will slice me bollocks off if I’m late for another class,” Niall shoves his hands in his pockets and walks backwards towards the door. “And if I’m being honest, the only way I want Ms. Powers to handle me bollocks is if she–”  
  
  
“Niall!” Liam cuts him off, jaw dropping slightly.  
  
  
“Alright, alright, ya prude,” Niall grins at him and rushes out of the doorway. A second later he peeks his head back in. “Meet me outside on the footie field after school. Have some weekend plans I want to discuss with you.”  
  
  
“See you then,” Liam waves, threading his arms through the straps of his backpack and heading towards his last class of the day.  
  
+  
  
It’s Friday and Liam decides to bring all of his math books and notebooks home to study. He figures that if he can spend the whole weekend cooped up in his room, taking only limited breaks to use the loo or eat, then there is no way he can get below a B on his next exam.  
  
  
If it was up to him, Liam would spend his entire school day tucked away in the corner of the music room, studying Bach and Mozart and Beethoven. He’d examine the progression of music through time. Learn all about Elvis Presley and Buddy Holly and Etta James. He’d study the Big Band Era and the transition to Rock and Roll music; let the hip-hop music of Grandmaster Flash and Run DMC seep into his bones until he knows it inside out.  
  
  
He genuinely loves music, would devote all of his time to it, if his mum and dad thought it was a practical trade. He’s not even sure he has a good voice – Niall tells him he does and he tries to believe him, because Niall’s nothing if not honest.  
  
  
Posture slightly slumped due to the heavy weight of his backpack, Liam trudges down to his school’s football field, where the team is currently practicing. Liam figures that he’d have played football too, if his grades weren’t so poor. Just last night, his mum and dad sat him down and gave him a stern talking to, telling him that if his grades didn’t improve they were going to have to take 'further action’.  
  
  
 _Whatever that meant_ , Liam had thought to himself, because he rarely went out on the weekends.  
  
  
Niall sits with his legs splayed out, palms pressed down into the grass, squinting up at Liam. His cheeks are flushing slightly from the uncharacteristically sunny London day, snapback backwards and pale arms poking out of a tank top. His cardigan and backpack are scattered around the sidelines and he’s positioned so that he can watch the cheerleading practice that’s taking place a few yards away.  
  
  
“Cher’s skirt is extra short today,” He tells Liam, wagging his eyebrows. “ _Looking good, girls!_ ” He hollers, and the cheerleaders dissolve into giggles, shoving each other and flipping their hair.  
  
  
“Anybody ever tell you you’re a bit of a pervert?” Liam takes off his jacket and wraps it around his backpack, placing both to the side.  
  
  
“Few times, yeah,” Niall is still waving at Cher, blowing her kisses and grinning. “Doesn’t stop me, though.”  
  
  
“I can tell.”  
  
  
“Anyways,” Niall gestures towards the football team, his eyes narrowing in focus. “Footie team got a new kid – transferred here from Doncaster. He’s been running circles around the rest of these blokes.”  
  
  
“Really?” Liam looks out on the field to scan the players, his eyes immediately finding their way to the new kid.  
  
  
“Not like it’s hard – team full of gits, you know. Louis Tomlinson’s his name.”  
  
  
He’s on the smaller side and has nice arms and a slightly rounded belly that is fit but incredibly endearing. His sandy brown hair is gently spiked in some places and he pushes it out of his eyes often. Liam watches as he leans down to pick up the ball, tucking it underneath his arm as he listens intently to the coach. They all clap and jog back out to their positions, ready to scrimmage.  
  
  
“Heard Harry’s taken a liking to him,” Niall comments and Liam feels his something settle in his stomach; an emotion he can’t quite put his finger on. He swallows hard and tears his eyes away from this Doncaster boy, watches as Niall pulls a bag of crisps out of his backpack and noisily opens the bag. “Saw them walking in the hallway together after I left maths.”  
  
  
“He likes Zayn," Liam corrects, and Niall shoots him a look. "Well if Harry likes him, I’m sure he’s nice,” Liam concludes, squinting his eyes through the sun to stare at Louis. He watches as Louis dribbles around the defensemen, kicking the ball into the top left of the goal. His scrimmage team bursts into cheers and Louis smiles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Probably a bit wild, though.”  
  
  
“Not everyone can be as _saintly_ as you, Li,” Niall laughs, throwing an arm around Liam. “Compared to you, everyone’s wild.”  
  
  
"Yeah, well,” Liam says, because he’s not really sure what else there is to say.  
  
  
He’s never been brazen or loud, because he has Niall to depend on for that and because he’s too worried what people will think, will say about him. He spends half of his time worrying, and the other half taking care of his friends when they drink too much to worry about anything themselves. Liam reckons that he should take a page out of Harry’s book – he needs a bit of wildness in his life. As quickly as that thought enters his head, Liam is able to push it away, deciding that he has the rest of his life to be wild; that he should spend his young years making the right choices, so that he can enjoy that wildness on the day that it arrives.  
  
  
“Anyways,” Niall’s voice shakes his thoughts. “Heard Ed’s having a huge bender at his house tomorrow night, and he’s invited us ‘cause I have guitar with him. Wanna go?”  
  
  
Liam bites his lip and avoids Niall’s eyes, choosing to look back out on the footie field again, following Louis’ movement with his eyes. “I really ought to stay home and study…”   
  
  
Niall gives him a moment of sincere thought before laughing in his face, clapping his back and grinning broadly. “Right, _study_ ,” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re gonna come, Payne – you, me and Zayn. Harry’s singing in Ed’s living room and there’s going to be free pints. You’re a twat if you don’t.”  
  
  
Liam shakes his head. “My mum and dad told me that if my grades don’t go up they’ll have to take further action and I’m actually quite nervous to find out what that means –”  
  
  
“It means they’ll take the telly or your cell phone away,” Niall explains, “All of which you can live without, mate. I’ll tutor you in maths – I’m getting an A.” With his last statement, Niall puffs his chest out a little, smiling at Liam. “So, ‘m gonna head home – mum’s cooking me favorite meal tonight and I want first dibs. Talk to you later.”  
  
  
“Goodbye,” Liam tries to keep the hint of misery out of his voice. “Tell Maura I said hello.”  
  
  
And with that, Niall is bustling off the field, stopping to pinch at Cher’s waist before getting yelled at by their coach. Liam laughs a bit as Niall winks at Cher’s coach and signals at Cher to call him later, and then Liam turns back to focus on Louis.  
  
  
He is breathing heavily, his face flushed and hair plastered to his forehead. As he takes a sip out of his water bottle, his eyes meet Liam’s and Liam feels his face begin to grow red. Louis screws the cap back on his water bottle, moving his hair out of his face and sending a small smile Liam’s way before turning and jogging back on the field, his teammates clapping his back.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey baby won’t you look my way? I can be your new addiction  
Hey baby what you gotta say? All you’re giving me is fiction  
I’m a sorry sucker and this happens all the time  
I found that everybody talks, everybody talks, everybody talks  
_  
  
Liam estimates he’s looked at himself close to a hundred times in the mirror before Zayn arrives at his house. He panics a little bit, steps around his room frantically before throwing himself on his bed and trying to look like he’s relaxed.  
  
  
His door swings open and Zayn comes in, smelling of cologne and leather and cigarettes. “Your mum told me to quit smoking again,” Zayn smiles, settling himself in a chair. “Told me I’ve got too pretty of a face to be doing such an ugly thing.”  
  
  
“She’s got a point, you know,” Liam says earnestly, earning an eye roll from Zayn. “What? I’m being serious – the side effects are quite _terrible_. Yellow teeth and your voice gets all raspy and gross and - ”  
  
  
“I know, I’ve read the pamphlets at school,” Zayn shrugs out of his denim jacket and grabs Liam’s iPod off of his desk, scrolling through it. “Niall’s not here yet?”  
  
  
“Nope, said he’s stopping at a friend’s to grab some beer,” Liam examines his cuticles and looks back up at Zayn. “Although I’m not sure why; he did mention there’s free beer at the party.”  
  
  
“Lad likes to have an extra good time,” Zayn sets the iPod down and grins at Liam. “Heard you’ve got a bit of a crush on the new kid, Li.”  
  
  
“ _What?!_ ” Liam is sputtering and his face is turning red and he’s suddenly feeling very hot in his spacious bedroom. “Who told you that? Not that it’s true – because it’s _not_.”  
  
  
“Niall called me earlier today, said you couldn’t stop staring at him playing footie the other day after school,” Zayn is tampering with a lighter, flicking it on and off. “I think his exact wording was ‘ _Liam couldn’t stop mooning over that Doncaster bloke yesterday, I hadto get out of there before I vomited_.’”  
  
  
“I was not mooning! And put down that lighter before you burn yourself, ” He protests, folding his arms over his chest. “I’ve never seen him before, so _sue me_ if I was a bit curious.” Zayn is staring at him and Liam lets his arms fall to his side. “Besides, Niall mentioned that Harry’s already got his hands on him.”  
  
  
“Not Harry’s type,” Zayn replies coolly, and Liam raises his eyebrows. “Met the kid yesterday. Harry thought it’d be a proper laugh to steal my cigs in between third and fourth period – you know, when I usually go out for a smoke – and sent Louis as a distraction.”  
  
  
“I _told_ Niall that Louis was wild,” Liam says gravely, shaking his head. “I just knew it.”  
  
  
“Doesn’t mean he’s a bad kid,” Zayn smiles. “He’d be a good match for you.”  
  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Liam looks out his window. “Barely even know the boy and you’re all off on some crazy assumption that I like him.”  
  
  
“Well we’re not exactly – ”  
  
  
The door to Liam’s room swings open again and Liam has never been happier to see Niall. He stumbles in, hiccupping and red in the face, his hands covering his mouth to muffle the laughter. He’s in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, his signature backwards snapback covering his blonde hair.  
  
  
“Your mum just saw me,” Niall gasps in between bursts of laughter, “And I kissed her on both cheeks. Told her she was beautiful.”  
  
  
Liam laughs, shaking his head at the sight of drunken Niall, wavering and clumsy and giggling. “My mum loves you either way, Niall,” He promises. “You could knock on the door and tell her that you’ve murdered me and she’d invite you in for a cup of tea.”  
  
  
“Good to know,” Niall laughs, and nods at the door. “Time to go to Ed’s, yeah?”  
  
  
“Erm,” Liam stands up and brushes his trousers off. “Do you reckon I look alright?”  
  
  
He’s wearing a pair of dark washed jeans and a blue plaid shirt, his hair combed out and neat. He doesn’t look devilishly handsome, and the girls won’t fawn all over him like they will when they see Zayn, but Liam thinks he’s cleaned up alright. Enough to get at least one person at the party that isn’t one of his best mates to chat him up.  
  
  
“Gorgeous,” Niall pulls a face of mock seriousness, shaking his head wildly. “Perfect. Angelic, if you will.”  
  
  
“Thanks,” Liam beams and grabs his jacket, tucking his cell phone into his back pocket.  
  
  
“Louis will love it,” Zayn adds, and scrambles out of Liam’s room and down the stairs before Liam can say anything in protest.  
  
  
“To the bus!” Niall commands, and they walk down the street, their laughter piercing through the quiet night air.  
  
+  
  
When they arrive to Ed’s house, the music is playing loudly and people are drinking on Ed’s front lawn. A few kids sit on his front steps, sucking on a joint, and wave cheerfully to the boys as they climb up the stairs. Niall and Zayn both take a hit and Liam politely declines, waiting on the porch as they finish up.  
  
  
“Here you go,” Niall pulls a beer out of his backpack and hands it to Liam, who wrinkles his nose. “You’re having at least three tonight, mate. Last party I dragged you to we made a deal – you’re going up a beer every party. Even got your favorite kind for ya.”  
  
  
“So thoughtful,” Liam hums, twisting the cap off of the dark bottle and gingerly taking a sip. The alcohol warms his throat as it slides down and he tries not to think about how awful it tastes. “Always looking out for me.” His voice is tight but he offers Niall a smile.  
  
  
“If you get sick of beer, I’ve got vodka mixed with some juice.” Zayn offers. Niall bursts out laughing and Zayn glowers, tucking a cigarette behind his ear. “I like to get a buzz going early, you twat, and beer doesn’t do it for me.”  
  
  
The house is packed tight with kids, and the boys edge their way through the crowds to the living room, where there is a bit more space. Zayn sits down on the couch and two girls flock over to him, flipping their hair over their shoulders as they sit on either side of him, asking to see his tattoos. Zayn has a prime look down their shirts but his eyes don't waver. He pulls off his jacket, showing them his latest edition - either a number six or a nine, something that Zayn hasn’t even explained to Liam yet. The girls laugh and run their fingers over it, distracted as Zayn raises his chin and he grins at the boys.  
  
  
“Look who _finally_ left his house!” Liam turns around and Harry is standing there. He’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blue V-neck, his signature curls tucked into a grey beanie. “Glad you decided to come, Li. I wasn’t sure Niall would be able to convince you.”  
  
  
“Yeah, well,” Liam takes another swig of his beer and raises it in the air, trying not to wince. “Living on the edge and whatnot.”  
  
  
“You gotta stick around,” Harry tucks his hands into his pockets and nods towards the opposite end of the room, where a microphone stand is placed. “Gonna sing a bit – Ed’ll join me, he said.”  
  
  
Liam notes the way that Harry’s green eyes shine in a way that they only do when Harry is nervous, and Liam reaches out, curls his fingers around Harry’s wrist. “You’ll be just fine,” He promises, smiling. “Got the best voice in London; everyone will go crazy.”  
  
  
“Don’t want them all going nuts,” Harry comments. His eyes scan the party, resting on the girls running their fingertips up and down Zayn's arms. “Just one would be fine with me.”  
  
  
“I’m sure Zayn will think you’re brilliant.”  
  
  
Harry grins and reaches out to slap Liam on the arm, a gesture that means Harry’s appreciative of Liam’s kind words. Liam reaches out to slap him back and they make small talk, Niall and Zayn joining them after a few minutes. Liam is cracking open his second beer of the night with encouragement from all three boys when Louis walks up.  
  
  
Liam’s mouth goes dry as he takes Louis in, and he swallows a generous gulp of his beer as a distraction. His hair is properly styled this time instead of slicked down with sweat; gently spiked up in places and swooped to the right, off of his face. He’s decked out in a pair of white skinny jeans and beige Toms and a salmon colored t-shirt, a beige jacket worn over it. Liam notices that he has the prettiest blue eyes that are a bit squinty, regardless of the fact that they have been out of the sun for hours.  
  
  
“Hello, lads,” Louis says, bumping his hip against Harry’s. “I’m Louis Tomlinson – just moved here from Doncaster.” His gaze strays to Zayn and he snaps his finger, nodding. “Believe we met yesterday – sorry about your cigarettes.”  
  
  
“It’s okay,” Zayn shrugs. “Harry does this kind of shit all the time. ‘m used to it by now.”  
  
  
“Louis,” Harry interjects. “These are two of my best mates – Niall,” Niall gives Louis a nod and raises his beer to his mouth. “And Liam.”  
  
  
“Hi, I’m Liam,” Liam waves and his face flushes red and Niall tries desperately not to spit his beer all over the place. “And, well…you’ve already been told that. So, no need to, erm, say it again, and stuff.”  
  
  
Louis smiles gently. “A bit of repetition never hurt anyone.” He sticks out his hand and Liam shakes it, immediately noticing how soft his hands are. “Louis Tomlinson – and, well…you’ve already been told that.”  
  
  
“Right, so,” Liam nods and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to go somewhere. Somewhere that’s not here. Yeah, so, I’ll –I’ll talk to you later.”  
  
  
He wills his legs to walk faster and finds the keg in the kitchen, finishing off his bottle and pouring himself a glass. His encounter with Louis keeps flashing in his mind and he wonders to himself what kind of hand soap Louis Tomlinson uses, and why his tongue got tied so easily in front of someone he doesn’t even know.  
  
  
A few girls say hi to him and he waves back uninterested, doesn’t hear as they wonder out loud why he doesn’t fancy them. Only hears the sound of Harry beginning to sing, his raspy voice streaming throughout the house.  
  
  
Liam anchors himself beside the keg and drinks his way through a few songs when he hears a different voice take the microphone, speaking through the crowd’s  
drunken cheers. “Right, so,” he hears, and the voice is light but confident; charming to Liam’s ears. “I’m the new bloke here in London, and I figured why not try this out. So, here it goes.”  
  
  
Liam fills his glass one more time and weaves his way through the crowd, feeling a little unsteady on his feet. His eyes take in the living room, where people are gathered around the microphone, shielding him from Liam’s view. Niall has Cher perched on his lap; Liam can see her love bites from all the way across the room and Niall sends him a thumbs up, pretends to hold a cup in his hand, signaling for Liam to drink more.  
  
  
Suddenly, the song starts to play and Liam freezes, his ears perking up. He twists his way through the throng of people gathered in front of the microphone  
and camouflages himself in the middle of it, his eyes taking in the sight of Louis at the microphone. He’s since shed his jacket and he fixes his hair a bit before leaning forward into the microphone.  
  
  
“ _Since_ _I’ve come home, well my body’s been a mess, and I miss your ginger hair, and the way you like to dress. Oh won’t you come on over, stop making a fool out of me. Why don’t you come on over, Valerie._ ”  
  
  
Louis smiles and winks at someone in the front row. His eyes flutter shut and Liam is mesmerized, can’t tear his eyes away from this Louis Tomlinson. He stays this way until the song has finished and he clears himself to the side with the rest of the crowd, waiting until Louis is done talking to Harry and making his way back to the keg.  
  
  
Before Liam can fully process what he’s doing, his legs are swiftly carrying him towards Louis, reaching out and lightly touching the tanned skin of his forearm. Louis swivels around and smiles when he sees Liam, stands there and shoves his hands in his pockets, waiting for Liam to speak.  
  
  
“Louis,” Liam stutters, immediately feeling his face heat up. “Erm, well. I just wanted to say I – I was watching and your voice…” Liam swallows hard and forces himself to smile. “It’s really quite lovely.”  
  
  
“Thank you,” Louis says, and Liam feels his body relax at Louis’ smile. “I’ve been thinking about switching into a music class, but I’m not quite sure if I want to.”  
  
  
“You should!” Liam blurts out and clears his throat, scratching at the nape of his neck. “I mean, you should consider it. I take one first period, and everything we learn is really fascinating. The teacher’s Mr. Cowell, if you’re wondering.”  
  
  
“Mr. Cowell,” Louis repeats, and smiles brightly. “Well, I’ll make an appointment to switch in first thing Monday.”  
  
  
“Great,” Liam says, and he finishes off his beer. “I’m gonna – I’m gonna go find Niall, I think. Might be time for us to leave.”  
  
  
“He’s a bit occupied with Cher right now,” Louis laughs, and Liam laughs along with him, thinks of how lovely of a sound Louis’ laugh is. “I’ll see you around, then.”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Liam nods. “Definitely.”  
  
  
Liam feels a bit like he’s flying and a bit like he’s going to be sick, so he goes and rounds up Niall and Zayn and says goodbye to Harry. There’s a low hum in Liam’s stomach that only appears when Liam is happy, and Liam stays buzzed on a mixture of the hum and the alcohol the entire bus ride home, a loop of “ _I’ll see you around, then_ ” and Louis’ blue eyes and his smile playing in his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

_He sees everything in black and white  
Never let nobody see him cry  
I don’t let nobody see me wishing he was mine  
  
  
_Mornings are Liam’s favorite part of the day, mostly because he gets to sit and drift away into the world of music while everyone else rubs the sleep out of their eyes and pretends to be listening.  
  
  
The music room is tucked in a hidden corner in the lower level of the school, so it has a sort of coziness about it that no other classroom has. He knows most of the kids in his class are only there to earn easy A’s, since the class only meets once a week. Mr. Cowell is strict but in a good way; the class isn’t difficult if you do your work and hand it in on time; all you have to do is learn to play a song on a relatively easy instrument, and write a few reports on your favorite musicians.  
  
  
His fingers graze over the strings of the guitar his parents bought him for his birthday last August, and he works on a chord he’s having a particularly hard time with. Everyone else spreads cream cheese on their bagels or sips on their ice coffee, whispering about the scandals that Liam was oblivious to at Ed’s. He hears Niall’s name mentioned in a rushed whisper with Cher’s and Liam smiles, because Cher is kind of popular and Niall just sort of drifts and hook ups like that aren’t supposed to happen.  
  
  
Liam raises his hand and asks to get a drink of water; his throat hasn’t been working properly since it dried up upon meeting Louis Saturday night. He’s almost finished with his song; he’s learning to play ‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis and is ahead of everyone else in his class. Liam tucks his hands into his pocket and takes his time, counting the colored tiles on the ground, and slams right into someone.  
  
  
His head snaps up and he sees Louis standing there, a slip of paper in his hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder. He’s in a pair of beige skinny jeans and black Toms, along with a white t-shirt and maroon hoodie. He smiles upon seeing Liam and Liam reaches out, lightly touches where his shoulder hit Louis.  
  
  
“Sorry about that!” He says, his eyes widening. “Wasn’t paying attention, didn’t even see you coming.”  
  
  
“It’s alright,” Louis laughs. “I doubt anybody pays much attention on Monday mornings.”  
  
  
Liam nods his head in agreement and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, wishing he wore his new Burberry sweater rather than a wrinkled, grey long-sleeve he found in the bottom of his bureau.  
  
  
“What are you doing down here?” He asks, raising his eyes to meet Louis’. “Not that you can’t be – you’re perfectly free to do what you want, um, who am I to question that and all – but not many kids have classes down here.”  
  
  
Louis raises the slip of paper, and Liam recognizes it as a permission slip to transfer into a different class. “Took your advice; I switched into the music class.” Louis looks around and then back to Liam, his hand curling up to scratch at the back of his head. “Can’t exactly find the class, though. Been looking for _ages_.”  
  
  
“Oh, I can show you! In that class myself.”  
  
  
“I know,” Louis says, and for a split second Liam’s heart leaps. “You told me at Ed’s on Saturday.”  
  
  
“Right, I did,” Liam corrects himself and forgets all about his drink of water, clears his throat and throws on his best tour guide smile. “Well, right this way.” He leads the both of them back to the classroom and throws the door, pointing him in the direction of the teacher. “That’s Mr. Cowell, he’ll sign your slip and all that. I’ll pull you up a chair.”  
  
  
Liam busies himself finding an extra chair in the cramped room, and glances over at Louis as he talks to Mr. Cowell. Tons of kids in the class are staring, making the connection that he was the kid who sang at Ed’s Saturday night, and the whispering commences. Liam hears people ask if there’s anything going on between the new kid and Harry, and his whole body tenses, wondering if he missed anything after he left.  
  
  
“All set!” Louis sets his backpack down in front of him and slinks down in his chair, looking up through his eyelashes at Liam. “So, what exactly do you _do_ in this class?”  
  
  
“You didn’t read the description in the course catalogue?” Liam furrows his eyebrows and Louis shakes his head. “Oh, um, it would have been helpful if you did. Gives you a proper introduction to the class, and all.” He swallows hard, rubs his hands on his jeans. “Why would you switch in if you knew nothing about it?”

  
He sits up and pulls a bagel out of his backpack, shrugging some more. “You told me to.” He gestures for Louis to stand and they walk over to the book case and Liam pulls out a binder full of songs, handing them to Louis. “You seemed pretty nice; reckoned I’d listen to you.”  
  
  
For the rest of class, Liam tries his hardest to concentrate on his song and keep the grin off of his face.  
  
\- -  
  
  
A few weeks later, Liam meets Niall and Zayn at the bakery that Harry works at. They order a few different pastries and some tea, and decide to wait until Harry’s shift ends.  
  
  
“I think you love him,” Niall says loudly, and Liam throws a napkin at him, a blush creeping up on his cheeks almost immediately. He looks around wildly, making sure nobody is there to listen to them, and swats Niall again. Niall sits back in his seat, reaching up underneath his shirt to clutch at his growling stomach. “Well, _you do_. All week, it’s been _Louis_ this and _Louis_ that.”  
  
  
“No, it hasn’t,” Liam huffs, and Harry pulls a chair up to the table and straddles it. His cheeks are flushed from the oven, a bit of flour dusts his hair and he has frosting smeared on his shirt. “You really ought to sit on the chair the right way; it’ll break and you’ll hurt your back.”  
  
  
“What happened to ‘living on the edge and whatnot’?” Harry asks, and puts his head down on the table. “Anyways, were we talking about Liam’s crush on Louis?”  
  
  
Liam looks perfectly horrified and Zayn laughs, leaning forward to clap him on the back. “If you really don’t want people to know,” He says, “You should work on talking like a normal lad to him instead of a stuttering mess, yeah?”  
  
  
“It’s not like I can help it!” Liam covers his face with his hands and his posture slumps. Zayn continues to pat his back and Liam peeks through his fingers. “Anyways, I’m not even sure if he, you know…”  
  
  
“He is,” Harry finishes, lifting his head. “One of Josh’s friends has got quite the crush on him; I tried talking Louis into bringing her out. He got a bit quiet and said no and that’s when I asked. So if you like him, go for it, Li.”  
  
  
Liam takes a sip of tea and stares down at the table, his fingers playing with a cookie. He figures if he doesn’t answer anybody, they’ll drop the subject and move on to something else. When he looks up, they’re all staring at him expectantly, and he falters.  
  
  
“Well…” He trails off, looking at the door as a tiny bell above it jingles. Louis walks in, shaking the rain from his hair. He’s got the sleeves of his navy jumper pulled over his hands and Liam softens immediately. “Anyways, be quiet,” Liam whispers. “Not _one_ of you say anything or I’ll – I’ll, you know, kill you and stuff.”  
  
  
“Good joke,” Niall winks, tossing a piece of cookie across the table at Liam. “Oi, Louis!”  
  
  
Liam focuses on his breathing and mentally visualizes killing Niall at best or maiming him at worst. He wills his heart to stop racing and looks up with a smile, waving at Louis as he walks over.  
  
  
“Hello, everyone,” Louis greets, stopping to point at Harry. “Saw Josh on my walk over here; he wants you to call him later. Something about throwing a party on Friday and getting you to sing.”  
  
  
Zayn reaches over to pat Harry’s arm in celebration. Harry grins and looks straight at Liam, who grins back. Liam has mentioned to Zayn countless times of Harry’s crush on him, and he’s pleased that Zayn is finally coming around on giving Harry a chance.  
  
  
Liam likes to see all of his friends happy, but it makes his heart ache in a good way when Harry is happy, because his dimples come out and his eyes gleam and you can’t help but smile along with him.  
  
  
“Right, so,” Harry stands up, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “I’m going to go give Josh a ring. Zayn, do you want to come along so you can have a smoke?”  
  
  
Zayn nods and stands up, and Niall follows suit. “I’d like to go as well,” Niall adds, grabbing two more cookies and shoving them in his pocket. “Just in case we get hungry.”  
  
  
“You don’t even smoke!” Liam exclaims, and Niall wrinkles his nose, sticking out his tongue as the three of them walk away.  
  
  
“And then there were two,” Louis says, nodding at the counter. “I’m going to grab a cup of tea. Do you need anything?”  
  
  
“No, thank you,” Liam says quietly, watching as Louis looks at the broken cookie pieces and crumbs scattered all over the table. His tea is cold but he doesn’t dare mention it, doesn’t want Louis to get him something and be teased for days about how their meeting by _chance_ at a bakery was a date.  
  
  
He flips through his contacts, selects the three boys and types out a quick message before Louis can get back. _You three_ , he writes, _are dead to me. D E A D.  
  
_  
Less than five seconds later, he has three responses.  
  
 _  
You’ll thank me in the end_ , and Liam makes a mental note to not thank Harry ever again, for as long as he lives. Harry is cruel and Harry is calculating and Harry is mischievous and Liam can’t handle that sort of thing.  
  
 _  
Shut up nd tlk 2 Louis. Nd buy me another tea ,mate,_ and Liam isn’t buying anything for Niall because Niall doesn’t even smoke and abandoned him when Liam was feeling most anxious, and he’s certain he’ll eventually forgive Niall but not here, not at this bakery.  
  
 __  
Good luck is all that Zayn writes and Liam thinks to himself that he likes Zayn the best, because Zayn isn’t meddling and conniving like the other two.  
  
  
Louis comes back with two steaming cups of coffee and two slices of banana bread, which just happen to be Liam’s favorite. He slides into the seat and hands Liam a piece of the bread and his tea, and shrugs.  
  
  
“Not really sure how you drink your tea,” He says, bringing his cup to his mouth. “Just got you what I usually get; milk and sugar.”  
  
  
“I get mine that way too,” Liam blurts. “But thank you – erm, here’s some money. You really didn’t have to do this –”  
  
  
Louis reaches out, curling his fingers around Liam’s fist, gently pushing his money away. Liam keeps his hand there for a minute, enjoying how Louis’ fingers feel, and Louis slides his hands away slowly.  
  
  
“So,” He starts, popping a small bite of banana bread in his mouth. “A friend of mine works at this bar in London that lets people perform, and I’ve gotten Harry a gig for next Thursday night.”  
  
  
Liam raises his eyebrows and takes a sip out of his tea. “That was awfully nice of you. Have you told him yet?”  
  
  
“Told him last week. Anyways, I was thinking of inviting a few of his mates, you know, so he’s not nervous.” Louis peers out the glass door at Harry, who sits huddled on the steps with Niall and Zayn, shielding themselves from the rain. “Harry has to get there a bit early, and I have to go shortly after him, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”  
  
  
“Really?” The word slips through Liam’s lips before he can catch it, and his face flushes red. “I mean, I’m flattered, but it’s a Thursday night and I’m not sure my mum will let me -”  
  
“So I’ll sneak you out,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair. “Throw rocks at your window, figure out a master plan to get you out of the house without your mum knowing. It’ll be quite romantic.”  
  
  
Liam swallows and looks away, blushing furiously. “I live on the third floor; I’m not sure that’ll work.”  
  
  
Louis shrugs. “Something tells me you’ll figure out a way to go.”  
  
  
“What makes you think that?” Liam winces at his words, realizing they come out way flirtier than he intended.  
  
  
“Because,” Louis says simply, reaching over and grabbing Liam’s phone. “I’m going to type my mobile in and I think you should text me sometime this week.”  
  
  
“Okay,” Liam replies, trying to maintain his cool. “Anyways, what made you move to London?”  
  
  
“Mum got a new job. Her and my dad just got divorced and I think she needed a bit of a change.”  
  
  
“I’m sorry,” Liam feels his stomach sink and tries to imagine life without his mum and dad. Louis is looking down at his tea, still fiddling with Liam’s phone, and Liam wants to reach out, to touch his fingertips to Louis’ eyelashes. “Must be awful, having to see that.”  
  
  
“Not really,” Louis quips, looking up. “My dad was a bit of a prat; I like how my mum smiles without him. She hasn’t been herself in ages.” He shrugs.  
  
  
Liam hates how dark Louis’ last sentence is; how it hangs in the air, tangible in its heaviness between them. He reaches out and touches Louis’ arm lightly, ignoring how his fingers are shaking. He wants to give Louis some light in his life; to make it seem like things are okay, even if they’re really not.  
  
  
“Maybe they’ll fix things.”  
  
  
“Probably not,” Louis shakes his head. “Things are either meant to be, or they’re not. I guess my parents weren’t.” He clears his throat and stands up, tilting his head toward the door. “Anyways, I’ve only stopped here for a quick tea.”  
  
  
“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” Liam says, standing up, scratching at his head. “That’s not, um – not what I intended at all, so I’m sorry if it came off as me being rude.”  
  
  
“No, not at all,” Louis shakes his head, reaches out and pats Liam on the arm. “You’re a genuine person, Liam. I’m used to talking about it by now; it rarely bothers me anymore. Some people are just better off without each other.”  
  
  
Liam nods his head and walks Louis to the door. “Thanks for the tea,” He says. “And the banana bread. It’s my favorite; my mum cooks it all the time.”  
  
  
Louis smiles and tugs his sleeves over his hands, biting at the plastic top of the cup holding his tea. “I’ll have to come over and have some, then.”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Liam manages, smiling widely. “You’ll have to. Soon.”  
  
  
“Soon.” Louis agrees, handing Liam back his phone. “And, before I forget, you have a few texts from the boys. All wondering how our ‘cozy little bakery date’ is going.” Liam’s jaw drops and Louis smiles. “I told them it was going really well. Threw in a few lines about how you want to touch my bum, as well. Goodbye, Liam.”  
  
  
And for the second time since meeting Louis Tomlinson, Liam’s throat goes dry.


	4. Chapter 4

_How I wish you could see the potential  
The potential of you and me  
It’s like a book elegantly bound  
But in a language that you can’t read just yet  
  
  
_It’s a sleepy, rainy Sunday when Liam next sees Louis outside of school. He’s upstairs, typing away on his laptop, without a shirt and wearing a pair of black trainers, when he hears his mum calling his name up the stairs. He closes his laptop and jogs down the stairs, his eyes widening when he sees Louis standing in the doorway.  
  
  
The first thing Liam notices is how Louis’ blue eyes are behind a pair of black framed glasses, and his hair is tucked underneath a beanie. Liam’s heart drops to his stomach and Louis smiles, gingerly holding up a tray of teas.  
  
  
“Brought us some,” He says, turning to face Liam’s mum. “I got you one too; I wasn’t sure how you liked it so I ordered it the same as Liam’s. Milk and some  
sugar.” He sticks out a hand, carefully balancing the tray in the other. “Louis Tomlinson; I’m a mate of Liam’s from school.”  
  
  
“Louis,” Liam’s mum repeats, taking the tray from him. “Nice to meet you – Liam’s told me so much about you.”  
  
  
“I really haven’t,” Liam adds, and Louis waves him off, stepping in. “I’ve only mentioned you once or twice – erm, Harry’s probably mentioned you a few times. Niall and Zayn too. It’s not just me.”  
  
  
“Oh, Liam,” his mum fusses, handing Louis two teas. “You’re being a bit rude to your friend!”  
  
  
“Well, I’m sorry,” Liam mumbles, and turns to smile at Louis. “D’you wanna come up to my room?”  
  
  
Louis follows him upstairs and kicks off his shoes, flopping on Liam’s made bed and burrowing under his covers. Liam smiles nervously, sitting in his computer chair and swiveling around to face looks.  
  
  
“Are you comfortable?” He asks lamely.  
  
  
“It’s rainy outside,” Louis replies, his eyes blinking slowly. A sleepy smile stretches across his face and he lets out a yawn. “It’s cold outside. I just want to snuggle.”  
  
  
Liam swivels back around to face his laptop, his face burning. He grabs his phone and finds Harry’s number, scrambling to pull together a text. _So, not only is Louis in my bed,_ he  
types, _but he just mentioned SNUGGLING. Help me. SOS.  
  
  
_ “Yeah, well,” Liam says. “Rainy days tend to have that effect on people.”  
  
  
“Does it have that effect on _you_?”  
  
  
“Sometimes.” Liam looks over his shoulder, wondering whether or not he should put on a shirt. “Typically I, uh, just put on a sweatshirt or something.”  
  
  
“Why don’t you find someone to snuggle with?” Liam looks over at Louis who wears a proud grin on his face, happy that he’s making Liam squirm.  
  
  
“Not really anybody I’d want to…snuggle with.” He shrugs, looking over at Louis. “There was nobody at school that I was interested in.”  
  
  
“Was?” Louis raises his eyebrow, a coy smile playing on his lips. “Are you interested in someone _now_?”  
  
  
Liam’s phone buzzes and he looks at the screen, a text from Harry reading _Climb in the bed and take his trousers off, mate._ He tries not to look appalled, but Louis laughs from underneath his covers and he looks up.  
  
  
“Yeah, um, Harry just sent me an inappropriate text,” He explains.  
  
  
“I figured,” Louis says. “I’ve hung out with him after school a few times. He likes to walk around without trousers on; doesn’t really matter who he’s with. He’s a cool kid.”  
  
  
“Harry’s the best,” Liam gushes. “Really good person. We’ve been friends since primary school; he’d go to the ends of Earth for people he cares about.”  
  
  
“Like Zayn,” Louis says, and Liam raises his eyebrows, shocked that Louis has picked up on one of Harry’s most guarded secrets. “I know when people care about others. It’s written all over a person’s face, especially someone like Harry.”  
  
  
“Zayn’s been good to him lately,” Liam says. “I was nervous for a bit, you know, because he’s Harry’s friend and stuff. But if he’s what Harry wants, then that’s great.  
  
  
“Anyways, back to the question,” Louis decides to redirect and Liam looks away, staring at a poster of Usher on his wall. “Are you interested in anybody now?”  
  
  
Liam takes a sip of tea and contemplates answering Louis. “Well, I _guess_ ,” He takes a deep breath and offers Louis a smile. “Not really sure if he’s interested in me. Or even knows  
if I’m interested in him.”  
  
  
“He,” Louis says, and Liam’s eyes fly back to the poster on the wall, suddenly hating himself for being so confident in his wording. He is dumb and he is foolish and he just admitted that he likes Louis and Louis doesn’t even like him, never mind like boys. “Well, that’s certainly good to know. And I don’t think it would be too hard to notice, if you had a crush on someone.”  
  
  
“Oh,” Liam crosses his arms, searching around the room for a sweatshirt. He’s as easy to read as a book; he’s been told that plenty of times before, and wonders why he thought the situation would be different with Louis. “Are you? Interested in anybody, I mean.”  
  
  
“I guess,” Louis pulls Liam’s covers around him tighter. “I don’t know if he knows I’m interested in him.”  
  
  
“He,” Liam repeats. “Good to know.”  
  
  
Louis smiles and Liam feels the goosebumps spread across his body, and he pulls on a sweatshirt. They listen to music and talk about school and Louis tells him about his life back in Doncaster, about his five younger sisters. Liam tells him about how long he’s known Niall and Zayn; how he likes to sing but has only let those two boys hear his voice, because he doesn’t think he’s any good.  
  
  
“Well, you’re going to have to sing to me sometime,” Louis says. “If not consciously, I’m going to get you drunk and hand you a microphone, cheer you on and such.”  
  
  
“Good luck with that,” Liam says. “I don’t drink much.”  
  
  
“You’re gonna have to make an exception for me.” Louis stands up, tucks his hands into his pockets and nods at Liam’s door. “I’m gonna head home – gotta help my mum out with dinner.” He shakes his head as Liam stands. “I’ll let myself out, say goodbye to your mum and all that. Text me later, yeah?”  
  
  
Liam nods his head, walking towards the door with Louis. “Yeah, I will.”  
  
  
+  
  
  
It’s Friday night and Liam is stepping off of the bus with Niall, heading into Josh’s party. He feels a buzz thrumming through his body, a direct result of letting Niall talk him into a few beers and accepting a few too many ciders, and he heads into the crowded house with a confidence empowering him that he’s never felt before. He thinks his hair looks nice; neatly combed and pushed up in the front. He feels even better about his outfit: a pair of jeans, a snug navy blue t-shirt, and a pair of white sneakers.  
  
  
Niall steps into the party, high-fiving a few people and getting two beers immediately pressed into his hands. He gives one to Liam and fiddles with his snap-back, blue eyes scanning the party. He’s got a thin UCLA jumper on and shorts, and Liam watches as he tilts his head back and chugs his beer, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.  
  
  
“Liam,” Niall clutches at his shoulder, his cheeks flushed red. “Liam, I see Louis.”  
  
  
“You do?” Liam can feel his inner moral compass begging him to tell Niall to lower his voice, but Liam is just _so drunk_ that he doesn’t even care. “Where is he?”  
  
  
“Living room,” Niall points straight ahead, where Louis is lazily draped on the couch. His head is ducked down, looking at his phone as Harry and Zayn sit on the other side of him, talking so closely that Liam wonders if they’ve snogged yet. “Reckon it’s your time to get him alone.”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Liam finishes off his beer and sets it in the trash, bending over to pick up a few cups and cans that have spilled out of the trash. People look at him funny, but he brushes them off, turns to face Niall again. “If I’m looking for you later –”  
  
  
“Just find Cher,” Niall grins, cracking open another can. “Tonight I’d like to get my hands on -”  
  
  
“ _Right_ , Niall,” Liam wrinkles his nose. “I know.”  
  
  
He grabs two more cans of beer, struggling to push his way through the crowds without spilling all over himself. Finally, he approaches Louis and he looks up, smiles as he takes the beer from Liam.  
  
  
“I’ve come to rescue you,” Liam announces drunkenly. “I’d like to go upstairs.” He realizes how suggestive his words are, and doesn’t care how they sound, because for once he wants to have his way without him being _so damn nervous_.  
  
  
Harry glances over and promptly gives Liam the finger, grinning. “Zayn and I claimed the couch first, you twats.”  
  
  
“You two are the twats,” Louis reaches over, playfully slaps Harry’s cheeks. “Borderline _snogging_ each other on the couch, right in front of me. I’m going to need to wash my eyes out with acid if I ever want to unsee that.”  
  
  
Liam follows Louis up the stairs, stops as they reach the second floor. Louis leans against the railing, taking a cool sip out of his beer and fixing his hair, grinning at Liam. “So, Payne – am I going to get to hear you sing tonight?”  
  
  
Liam shrugs, coyly smiles back at Louis. “I don’t know – what’s in it for me?” He’s drunk and cocky and loves the way the words sound as they twist their way out of his lips – smooth and cool, both of which Liam can never usually pull off.  
  
  
“We’ll see,” Louis takes a step forward. “You’ll have to sing first.”  
  
  
His head feels dizzy and his tongue is heavy, but Liam steps closer to Louis, staring straight at him. “Any requests?”  
  
  
He taps his finger to his chin playfully, tilts his head and shrugs. “Anything you’d like to sing, I’d like to hear.”  
  
  
Liam breathes in, takes a large gulp of beer before plunging into it. He closes his eyes, pretends that it’s just him in his shower, that this beautiful boy isn’t standing across from him and listening.   
  
  
“ _I’m not the boy who will fall to his knees, with his hands clasped tight begging, begging you please, to stay with him for worse or for better. But I’m staring at you now, there’s no one else around, I’m thinking you’re the one for me.”_  
  
  
He opens his eyes and a smile is spreading across Louis’ face, and he nods his head, encouraging Liam to continue. “ _I’m just saying it’s fine by me_ ,” His eyes open wide as Louis joins him, and Liam finds himself stepping closer, so that they’re almost chest to chest. “ _If you never leave. And we can lay like this forever, it’s fine by me_.”  
  
  
And just like that, the moment is over and neither one of them speak. The chattiness from downstairs swirls up, surrounds them and clogs their ears as they stare at each other, and Liam can see Louis’ head tilting towards his. The space between their faces gets smaller and he braces himself, prepares for the crash of Louis’ lips.  
  
  
“Liam!” His eyes fly open and he stares at Louis, eyes wide. He clears his throat and turns around. Niall drags Cher by the hand out of the bedroom, both their lips kiss-swollen and faces flushed. Smatterings of love bites decorate their necks and Cher’s shirt rides up, exposing the flat, tanned skin of her belly.  
  
  
“Niall,” Liam replies, his voice flat and unenthusiastic. Louis sips on his beer, smirking and Liam pulls an extra beer out of his pocket, cracks it open and chugs. “How lovely to see you.”  
  
  
“There you are, mate!” Niall claps them both on the back, slurps out of his beer and grins. “Insane party, yeah?  
  
  
“It’s good,” Louis agrees. “Josh knows how to have a good time.”  
  
  
“Niall,” Cher quips, her eyes zoning in on the blush that has embedded itself in Liam’s cheeks, how his hands shake when he takes a sip of beer. “I think we should go – looks like we’ve interrupted something.”  
  
  
“Oh,” Niall says, and his eyes widen and sparkle. “ _Oh!_ Right, so, carry on, m’lads!” He leans into Louis, his lips pulling together in an exaggerated whisper. “Liam’s wanted to snog you since the first time he saw ya.”  
  
  
“It’s time to go!” Cher shoots Liam an apologetic smile, pulls Niall back into the bedroom. Niall struggles against her and she shrugs, pulling his hand until his fingers are tucked into the waistband of her skirt. “Your loss; there was a lot we didn’t get to…”  
  
  
“I gotta go,” Niall heads towards Cher, turns around and flashes Louis and Liam a thumbs up. “You be careful with him, new kid.”  
  
  
The door clicks shut and Liam turns to Louis, shaking his head vigorously. “I’m sorry about him – he’s…well, I’m mortified and all.”  
  
  
“You shouldn’t be,” Louis shrugs. “Let’s go get more beer. And, by the way, you have a lovely voice.”  
  
  
Liam spends the rest of his night drinking with Louis, watching as Harry sings and chatting with various kids from school. His vision is blurred but he’s all too aware of how their shoulders bump, the feel of Louis’ hand on his back as he goes to refresh them of drinks, how Louis will touch his face and laugh. It’s these movements that he sees when he closes his eyes as he lays in bed at home, the whole world spinning.


	5. Chapter 5

_Have I been to discreet? How long am I supposed to wait?  
I think about you nightly. Oh, can you tell I’m losing sleep?  
What am I supposed to do? It’s hard to stay cool when you smile at me  
And I get nervous every time you speak  
  
  
_Liam presses the phone between his shoulder and ear, looking at himself in the mirror one more time. “I’m in a maroon t-shirt and jeans,” He tells Zayn, running his hands through his hair, giving himself an appearance of being more disheveled than he likes to be. “D’you think that’s _club_ -y enough?”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Zayn answers, and Liam can hear him blow out some smoke. “It sounds good to me, Liam.”  
  
  
“Well, what are _you_ wearing?” Liam flops himself down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He feels like vomiting and he’s not sure why.  
  
  
“White t-shirt, grey hoodie and a red jacket. I have on a beanie, as well,”  
  
  
“The quiff wasn’t cooperating?” Liam jokes, and hears Zayn’s disgruntled sigh on the other end of the phone. “Well, I’m going to go. I’ll see you there.”  
  
  
“See you,” Zayn replies, and the phone clicks off.  
  
  
He’s pacing his room, peeking out of his window for Louis’ car every now and then. He tries to keep himself busy, but finds his mind wandering to their almost-kiss at Josh’s last Friday. It’s been nearly a week and he’s hung out with Louis a few times after school, neither one of them mentioning it. Liam has chalked it up to too much alcohol coursing through their veins; the potent smell of weed fogging up their minds.  
  
  
He swallows hard, tucks his phone and wallet into his pockets, and pulls a white hoodie off of his door and slips his feet into white sneakers. Glancing out his window, he sees two headlights shining as they pull into his driveway, and Liam bounds down the stairs, shouting goodbye to his mum and closing the door hurriedly.  
  
  
Sliding into Louis’ passenger seat, he offers him a kind smile and waits until Louis has backed out of the driveway to talk. “Have you talked to Harry?”  
  
  
“He’s about to piss himself,” Louis answers, one hand on the steering wheel and the other cupping his chin. “Never heard somebody so nervous in my life.”  
  
  
“Should we bring him something?” Liam raises his eyebrows as Louis chuckles. “I’m just – I’m not sure what to do in this situation.  
  
  
“Anything he needs, the club will give it to him,” Louis takes a right and Liam glances out the window, sees buildings he doesn’t recognize as they pull up to the club. The sign is old and the paint is peeling off of it, proudly reading ABBOT’S. Liam can see smoke curling into the air, thin and silky as ribbons, and a line of people extending down the street. Girls wear short skirts and tight tops, teetering on sky-high heels. Guys wear outfits similar to his, craning their necks to see where the line starts and whether or not people are  
being let in.  
  
  
Louis walks up to the front of the line, shakes hands with one of the burly security guards outside. He jerks a thumb at Liam, but Liam’s eyes stay trained on the ground and without another word, he follows Louis into the club.  
  
  
It is dark and sleek. The floors are black and shiny, and Liam’s eyes flick to the head of the club, where the bar is; it extends along the length of one side of the club. Glass shelves climb towards the ceiling, stocked with bottles and bottles of alcohol, illuminated by a wall made out of dull, blue lights. The stools are made of shiny black leather. On the opposite end of the room stands a stage. The wings are dotted with different colored lights and large speakers, and a bright white spotlight shines down on the center of the stage upon a sole microphone stand. Two stripper poles encased in cages, tall and chrome-colored, are perched on the left and right sides of the stage.  
  
  
The center of the club is a dance floor, the edges lined with bright lights. There is the cliché white smoke spilling onto the floor, onto the stage, and Liam wrinkles his nose, as he’s never liked the smell of it. Booths fill the side of the club; plush and black, big enough to seat twenty people.  
  
  
“How did you land him a gig _here_?” Liam asks incredulously, his head tilted up. Tiny white lights are embedded in the shiny black ceiling, and Liam likens them to the stars in the sky. “Louis, this is _amazing_.”  
  
  
“My dad knows the owner,” Louis shrugs. “He’s always wanted me to focus on football, but I’ve always liked to sing. He offered to let me sing here once, only after my mum pitched a fit about him not being supportive.” Liam tries not to pull a face and Louis leads him to the bar, taking two glasses of juice and vodka from the bartender. “I didn’t want to share that part of me with him, though, so I told him to let a friend of mine sing here.”  
  
  
“Speaking of, where’s Harry?” Liam whirls around to face the stage, pointing as Harry walks out on stage. “Should we go see him?”  
  
  
“Might as well,” Louis takes a lengthy sip out of his glass. “Before I forget – bartender is running a tab on us, charging it to my dad’s card. Order as much as you want. I really mean that – I want to send him a bill he’ll _cry_ about.”  
  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Liam smiles, waving as they approach Harry. “Harry – this could be the coolest thing you’ll ever do in your life.”  
  
  
“I’m going to pass out,” Harry says promptly. “I’m going to puke, and then I’m going to pass out.”  
  
  
“No, you won’t, mate,” Louis wraps an arm around his shoulder, gesturing to the rest of the club with his drink. “You’ll do fine here. First Abbot’s, then Wembley Arena.”  
  
  
“Louis, please step away,” Harry answers wearily. “I don’t want to vomit on your new shoes.”  
  
  
Liam looks down, taking a minute to admire how Louis is dressed. His hair is styled like it was at the first party Liam met him at, and he’s wearing a pair of black Converse sneakers, black pants that are rolled up at the ankles, a white collared shirt and a black jacket over it. He looks great, and Liam’s mind flashes back to their almost-kiss. He brushes this memory away with a deep drink of his juice and vodka, finishing off the glass.  
  
  
“Liam!” Harry is standing there, his eyes widening at Liam’s empty glass. “Who taught you to drink like that?”  
  
  
“Well, I did,” Liam shrugs. “Listen, why don’t you let me be nervous _for_ you and just sing like it’s another one of Josh’s parties?”  
  
  
“Yeah, just imagine that you’re just singing for kids from school,” Louis takes Liam’s glass and nods towards the bar. “I’m going to go refill us. Harry, d’you want anything?”  
  
  
“A gun, preferably,” Harry replies, sitting down on the stage and dropping his head into his hands.  
  
  
Louis smirks, walks away and Liam sits down next to Harry on the stage, nudging him with his elbow. “You’ll be fine, Harry. I promise.”  
  
  
“You need to stand front row, center,” Harry hisses through his teeth. “I’m going to be looking straight at you, ‘cause if I look at anybody else I’m going to piss myself.”  
  
  
“Right, mate,” Liam agrees. “I’ll do that.”  
  
  
“Anyways, how are things going with you two?” Harry looks up, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Have you guys just been hanging out, snogging on your bed and all?”  
  
  
“No!” Liam sputters. “There has been absolutely no snogging – it’s just been a perfectly normal friendship, thank you very much.”  
  
  
“Well, your time is going to run out,” Harry rubs Liam’s back. “If you don’t get your move on, the bloke’s going to figure you’ve lost interest and you’ll catch him with his hand down Aiden’s trousers.”  
  
  
“Thanks for the advice,” Liam says, and he tilts his head. “Wait, Aiden’s gay?”  
  
  
“Got caught in Josh’s upstairs bathroom with Ed last weekend,” Harry gets up to his feet and smiles. “Anyways, I’ll see you later on.”  
  
  
“Break a leg!” Liam yells as Harry walks away.  
  
  
They hang around, drinking and wiggling their hips to whatever the DJ is playing as more people filter into the club. Louis greets some friends from his old school, always wrapping an arm around Liam’s shoulders and pressing his drink to Liam’s chest, introducing him to people whose names Liam will never remember.  
  
  
Niall shows up, already pink-cheeked and sloppily pressing kisses to their heads, laughing as he chases after girls who throw him coy giggles and bat their eyelashes, eyes as big as the moon. Zayn tugs self-consciously at his beanie, giving out hugs before tossing himself in a random booth, waiting until people flock over to him.  
  
  
It’s only about an hour and a half into the night when a young man walks out on the stage. He wears a loose tank top and skinny jeans, his brown hair messy. “Alright, everyone,” He says in to the microphone, and the lights in the club brighten. “We have a special guest here tonight; his name is Harry Styles and he’s going to sing for all of you.”  
  
  
Liam hollers as Harry steps out on the stage, his lips pressed together in a shy smile as he walks towards the microphone. A grey beanie sits on the back of his head so that some of his curls stick out, and his navy blue shirt has the number 18 on it in giant white letters.  
  
  
“Right, so,” Harry begins, clearing his throat. “I’m Harry Styles.” He smiles again and Liam’s is bubbling up with happiness, as he knows that his friend has always wanted to say that.  
  
  
The music kicks off and the crowd erupts, recognizing the first few chords as the opening to “Harder to Breathe” by Maroon 5. Harry’s voice, low and raspy and rocky, flows through the club and everyone thrashes on the dance floor.  
  
  
His smile grows wider as he realizes that people like him, and he makes instant eye contact with Liam, flashing him a thumbs up. Liam returns the gesture and dances in the middle, not caring how stupid he looks.  
  
  
They make it through five or six more songs; Louis constantly refills their glasses until that buzz enters Liam’s body again. His tongue soaked with alcohol, he dances close to Louis, laughter spilling from his lips, mouthing the words. Harry begins to close his set, deciding to end it with a slow song.  
  
  
Louis’ lips are next to Liam’s ear. “Wanna go get some fresh air?”  
  
  
Liam nods and allows Louis to tug him by the hand out the back door of the club, and he closes his eyes as the cool London air hits his face. They stand in silence for a few moments, enjoying how the heat of their body is slowly winding down.  
  
  
“So,” Louis grins. “He did pretty well for his first major gig, yeah?”  
  
  
“Yeah,” Liam nods, clumsily leaning against the wall.  
  
  
Louis runs his hands through his hair, blue eyes gleaming. “At least we can say we knew him before he got famous.”  
  
  
“That we can,” Liam agrees. “And he couldn’t have done it without you.”  
  
  
“Oh, no,” Louis says. “He has enough talent that someone would have recognize it sooner or later. Just doing a friend a favor, is all.”  
  
  
“Yeah, but,” Liam’s voice is quiet and his eyes, wide and light brown and innocent, stare at Louis. “You’re a really good friend. I’m glad he met you.” Louis grins, and Liam breathes out. “I’m glad I met you, as well.”  
  
  
They can hear Harry’s voice crooning through the club, and Louis takes a step closer to Liam, reaching out to lightly touch his hand. “Well, I’m glad I met you.”  
  
  
“Yeah?” He presses his hand against Louis’.  
  
  
“Yeah,” Liam swallows as that familiar feeling of excitement washes over him. He can only look down at Louis’ lips, which inch closer to his, and the tips of their noses brush together. Louis smiles. “I’m really glad.”  
  
  
And without another word, Louis throws Liam against the wall, pinning his shoulders back with his hands. Their lips smash together, move in unison, and Liam finds his hands curling into Louis’ hair. Liam groans into his mouth as Louis’ fingertips brush along the waistband of Liam’s jeans, and he pulls Louis closer, chests pressed together.  
  
  
“ _Like a river flows surely to the sea. Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be.”_ The crowd cheers at the second verse as Louis’ hands are running along Liam’s body, feeling the warm skin. Liam’s tongue pries its way into Louis’ mouth and Louis sighs, relaxes and allows Liam to twist them so that Louis’ back is flat against the wall.  
  
  
“ _So take my hand, take my whole life too,_ ” One hand is pressed just over Louis’ shoulder and the other is intertwining with Louis’. They kiss harder and harder until their mouths are swollen and they’re out of breath. “ _’Cause I can’t help, falling in love with you._ ”  
  
  
They both draw back, foreheads touching, and a small smile loosely twists its way on to Liam’s lips. Louis laughs, reaches up and traces Liam’s mouth with a fingertip before pulling him into another kiss, their mouths moving against each other until the song has ended.


	6. Chapter 6

_I keep changing like the leaves, hell_   
_Go, go You’ll be fine on your own  
_

Liam hasn’t left his room in a week. His phone lies on his desk, dead, not having been charged at all lately, and he lays flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, tossing a tennis ball up and catching it. He took two personal days and has been faking sick for three days now, he thinks, and he figures his Monday morning headache routine is getting old, really quick.

He gets up, rummages around his drawer to find his charger, plugs his phone in and turns it on. It lights up repeatedly, buzzing against the wooden desk, names flashing on the screen. By the time it’s done, he has sixteen texts from Niall, twelve from Harry, eight from Zayn and five from Louis.

He clicks through them, his eyebrows furrowing. Niall is yelling at him, threatening him to respond. Harry is worried, his texts slowly progressing to anger, and Zayn is just checking in on him, cool as always. It’s Louis’ that make Liam’s stomach drop; his heart feel like it’s slowly making its way up his throat.

_Hey mate, heard you were sick. Text me back when you feel up to talking._

_  
I don’t know if you got my last text, so here’s another. Checking in on you. Feel better._

_  
Alright, I don’t really know what’s going on, but you can text me if you want to talk._

_  
Liam, is everything alright?_

_  
I don’t know what I’ve done, but I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone._

His fingers linger over the keypad, but he breathes out a frustrated breath and turns his phone off instead, tossing it back on the desk. Climbing into bed, he pulls his covers over his head and draws his knees up to his chest, the tears filling his eyes hot and thick.

  
He stays that way for the rest of the night, muffling his cries into his sheets, wondering what is wrong with him, why things fell apart so quickly just as they were starting to work out in his favor. Why something inside of him won’t allow him to face Louis, to text him back and tell him that everything’s okay, as long as Louis still likes him.

  
+

  
His mom makes him go to school the following Monday, but he convinces his mum to let him go in second period, avoiding Louis once more.

+

  
Louis walks into class early, sipping on his tea. He sits in his chair, puts his backpack on the one next to him, just in case Liam decides to show up today. Pulling his sweater sleeves over his hands, he waits, eyes glued to the door as students filter in in small groups.

  
With five minutes left of class, he pulls his backpack off the chair and sighs.

+

  
Liam keeps to himself for most of the day, until Niall tracks him down and shoves at him, his blue eyes accusing.

  
“Where the _fuck_ have you been, you twat?” Niall hisses, fingers running through his hair. “Me, the lads – we’ve been worried sick about you.”

  
“Just been sick,” Liam answers, voice low. He coughs for emphasis, turns to his locker and exchanges his books, tucking them into his backpack. “Couldn’t move out of bed.”

  
“Liam, I wasn’t born last night,” Niall narrows his eyes, steps closer to Liam. “This is about _Louis_ , isn’t it? He’s been asking about you, practically tearing his hair out wonderin’ what’s been going on with you.”

  
“Yeah, well,” Liam shrugs.

  
“ _Yeah, well_ my ass.” Niall is moving quickly to keep up with Liam. “What’s wrong with you?”

  
  
“I don’t know what to do, okay?” Liam’s voice rises as he turns to face Niall, his cheeks a splotchy red. “Stuff happened at the club and I’ve been weird since and I don’t know how to say that without making him feel bad. I don’t want to make him feel bad.”

  
“Stuff?” Niall raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “You two snogged, _didn’t you_? Isn’t that what you wanted, Li?”

  
“I thought so,” Liam shrugs. “I guess not.”

  
+

  
“So you haven’t talked to him at all?” Zayn lies on his bed, scrolling through his phone. “Not even to say hello, or anything?”

  
“Nope,” Liam is tossing a tennis ball again, his hands shaking. “Got five texts from him, though. I just haven’t really responded.”

  
“Wow,” Zayn says, rolling over on to his tummy to look at Liam. “Sorry, Li, but you’re being a bit of a twat.”

  
“Yeah,” Liam grumbles, shaking his head. “I’m well aware.”

  
“Why can’t you just talk to him about it?”

  
“I don’t know what to say.”

  
“You’re weird, mate,” Zayn laughs. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

  
Liam sighs, wondering why his friends can’t offer any original and insightful questions. “I thought so,” He says for the second time that day. “I guess not.”

  
+

  
“Okay,” Harry says, as he breaks apart a warm chocolate chip cookie. “Okay.”

  
Liam raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”

  
“Okay,” Harry repeats. “So, do you or don’t you like Lou?”

  
“I do,”

  
“Did you or didn’t you like snogging Lou?”

  
“I did,”

  
“Would you or would you be against taking his trousers off?”

  
Liam’s puts his face in his hands, peaking at Harry through his fingers. “That’s a really intrusive question Harry. You shouldn’t ask people that.”

  
“You shouldn’t play with people’s hearts,” Harry answers promptly. “Anyways, listen, because a similar thing happened with Zayn and I. The first time I properly snogged him, he didn’t talk to me for a month. Remember that? I was miserable. Don’t think I showered for a week.”

  
“That’s gross.”

  
“Yeah, I know. Anyways, I waited until he came back to me, because there’s no use in pushing people who don’t want to be pushed.” Harry takes a bite of cookie and Liam reaches across the table, thumbing at the chocolate that has smeared on the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for that, mate. Anyways, I just think you’re being a bit weird because he’s the first person you’ve had feelings for. Is that right?”

  
“Yes,” Liam wails. “What do I do?”

  
Harry leans back in his chair, smiles. “Talk to him, Li.”

  
“What if he’s hurt and doesn’t ever want to talk to me again? What if I’ve _ruined it forever_ and – Harry I can’t.”

  
Harry shakes his hair out and leans forward on his elbows. “Liam, aren’t your parents going away this weekend?”

  
Liam sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes – and I know what you’re thinking. I’ll do it, as long as you take care of everything and keep me steadily drunk, you hear me?”

  
“Steadily drunk,” Harry grins. “That’s something I can do.”


	7. Chapter 7

_You got my heart, I can’t control it  
Sign your name on it and let the world know it belongs to you  
When I wake up in the morning, I don’t know where I’m going  
I just wanna spend my time next to you  
  
_  
“Be careful of my mum’s vases!” Liam hollers, finishing off his beer and running into the living room, scooping them off of the side tables. Throwing everyone a dirty look, he tucks them into the cupboard underneath the staircase, sighing as he runs his hands through his hair.   
  
  
Another beer is given to him and he finishes it almost immediately, and he heads into the kitchen to get another. “Beer, beer, I need beer,” He sings.  
  
  
He’s trying to get adequately buzzed, so that he doesn’t have to worry about the state his home is in. He’s wearing a collared, blue and white checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pair of grey skinny jeans and white sneakers.  
  
  
The party has been going on for a few hours now, and Liam has busied himself walking around and making small talk with various people from school. His eyes keep drifting to the door, watching as hoards of people who aren’t Louis walk in, and his heart sinks deeper each time. The drinks keep coming, and Liam keeps accepting them, and pretty soon, his house is spinning. _  
  
  
_An hour later, Liam is spreading an assortment of party rings on a dish when Harry runs in with Niall. They are both flushed, breathless, as they look at Liam with wide eyes, and Liam feels the panic start to rise in him.  
  
  
“Right, then,” He states, setting down the dish. “It’s now or never, yeah?”  
  
  
“Um,” Harry says, popping a ring into his mouth. His voice is trilling and Liam shoots him a weird look. “Liam, I should probably-”  
  
  
“So, I just have to go in there, pull him aside and talk to him.” Liam rubs his hands together, swaying on his feet. “I can do this, lads.”  
  
  
“Y’know, he’s in there with-” Niall steps forward and Liam squeezes past him.  
  
  
“Just gonna go upstairs and make sure I look alright,” He grins, and scampers out of the room, jogging up the steps. “Maybe practice the dialogue I’ve made up in my mind one more time.”  
  
  
Niall throws an arm around Harry and pulls him into a hug.  
  
  
The light is on in the bathroom and the door is cracked open a tiny bit. _Louis, I’m sorry for being a dick,_ Liam recites. _I liked kissing you and I hope you liked kissing me and I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hope things can work out between us, because I like you a lot._ He hears muffled movements and he pushes the door open slowly, his eyes widening at what he’s walked in on.  
  
  
“Oh,” His eyes flick back and forth from Zayn to Louis, and a lump grows in Liam’s throat, so thick he can’t breathe. “Well, I’m terribly sorry for walking in – oh my _god_.”  
  
  
He heads towards his bedroom, his mind spinning with the sight of Louis sitting on the sink counter, Zayn pressed in between his legs, Louis’ head lolling back with pleasure. He throws his door open as Louis’ blue eyes, widened with shock and something Liam couldn’t identify – maybe regret? – twist their way into Liam’s head. He looks at himself in the mirror, forces himself to breathe, wills himself not to cry, and Louis appears in the doorway, hands tucked into his pockets and his cheeks ablaze with a furious red blush.  
  
  
“Before you talk,” Louis holds up his hands, palms facing Liam. “I’d just like to say something.”  
  
  
“Well, get on with it,” Liam orders, not allowing himself to look at Louis. “I’d like to get back downstairs and enjoy _my_ party with _my_ mates. Don’t want to be stuck up here with – with _you and that twat_.”  
  
  
They hear Harry drunkenly yell from downstairs and they stare at each other. Liam’s heart races and he thinks to himself how he _ever_ got himself in this position, because not only does he have to allow his own heart to break, but he’s going to have to watch as Harry’s breaks as well.  
  
  
Liam thinks of making Harry sad – the way his green eyes will dull, his dimples and grin will vanish, the way his curls will drop down, like they’re hurting too - and wants to hit Louis, to punch him right in his pretty little face, tell him to go back to Doncaster and stay there.  
  
  
Louis’ eyebrows raise, and Liam’s insides are quivering at both his tone and use of language, but the image of Louis’ face, contorted with pure bliss, flashes in front of his eyes and he sets his jaw, crosses his arms over his chest.  
  
  
“You couldn’t have expected me to just sit around and wait, Liam,” Louis says softly and Liam snorts, runs a hand through his hair. “You hadn’t spoken to me in a week, skipped our class together twice. You weren’t answering my texts – what was I supposed to do?”  
  
  
“I’m not exactly sure,” Liam snaps. “But I’m quite certain you weren’t supposed to shove your dick down someone _else’s_ throat. Especially someone like Zayn – you _know_ how much Harry cares about him.” He walks towards Louis; his eyebrows furrowed, and pokes him square in the chest, teeth clenched with animosity.  
  
  
“We spoke about it once. But you probably just did what’s right for you, Louis, didn’t you? Because nobody else matters but you. Because you’re so damn _selfish_ that you couldn’t wait to get your hands on someone else, didn’t matter _who_ you were hurting.”  
  
  
“I waited a week, Liam,” Louis starts, and Liam laughs, tilts his head back and cackles.  
  
  
“A week?” He pulls a face, throws his lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Poor, selfish Louis – an entire week! How did you survive? Enlighten me.”  
  
  
"Maybe,” Louis says, pressing his palms to Liam’s chest and shoving him backwards. “Maybe if you weren’t such a _coward_ and could just talk to me like a normal human being, things could have worked between us. But you – you ran away, didn’t you Liam?”  
  
  
He wets his lips with his tongue, shakes his head and walks to the door. “You’re quick to point out everyone else’s flaws but are too ignorant to see your own. You’re the selfish one, Liam – not anybody else. You.”  
  
  
“Yeah, well,” Liam scoffs, pushing past Louis to head downstairs. “Maybe it’s a good thing that I didn’t talk to you, ‘cause it’s crystal clear that whatever was going on between us wouldn’t have worked in the long run.”  
  
  
He heads downstairs, his cheeks pink and his hands shaking, when Louis speaks up again. “Yeah, well, some people are just better off without each other.”  
  
  
The day in the bakery engulfs Liam and he can taste the banana bread, see the rain as it hits the pavement and hear the graveness in Louis’ voice as he talked about his parents. With a knot in his stomach and his eyes instantly welling up with tears, Liam walks into the bathroom and vomits, oblivious to the fact that a beautiful boy still stands in his room, looking at Liam with hurt in his blue eyes.  
  
  
+  
  
  
Liam’s broken almost every string on his guitar in music class, trying to focus on the chords and ignore Louis’ eyes, which stay glued to him every class. He tunes Louis out every chance he gets, from when he pulls a chair up next to Liam and offers him a smile, to when he nudges him with his foot, pleading with Liam to _please talk to him_.  
  
  
Liam’s world slowly falls apart, and he follows his routine, numb to anything out of turn. He drinks his tea, does his homework, focuses on his friends and family, and crawls into bed each night. His mind constantly drifting, he wonders why he ever decided to fall for the boy from Doncaster, why Louis sees everything in black and white but couldn’t accept the small area of grey that is Liam.


	8. Chapter 8

_So I thought I’d let you know  
These things take forever, I especially am slow  
But I realized that I need you,  
And I wondered if I could come home_ ****  
  
  
Niall sits on the sidelines of the footie field, pulling faces at Cher and making obscene gestures that she giggles at when Louis walks up to him.  
  
  
Niall’s blue eyes narrow and Louis is shaken for a second, but he forces himself to sit down next to Niall and cradle his head in his hands. “I think you should go away,” Niall states bluntly. “Don’t usually fuck around with someone who’s hurt my mates.”  
  
  
“I know,” Louis says, and he pulls his knees to his chest. “How angry are they?” He asks because he knows Niall will talk; as loyal as he is, Niall has a good heart and wants to see people get along, especially if it will pull his friends out of bad moods.  
  
  
“Haven’t talked to Zayn because – well, you know,” Niall shrugs. “I think you’re a bit of a tosser, yeah, but I’m not really involved – besides Liam and Harry being my best mates.” He takes off his hat and spins it in his hands. “Harry’s cried a bit. He’s been workin’ a lot lately, hasn’t really left the house much, even if I’ve invited him.”  
  
  
He presses his lips together and Louis looks at him, weary. “What about Liam?”  
  
  
“Li’s…well, I’m a bit worried about him,” Louis closes his eyes at the sadness in Niall’s voice. “Hasn’t been himself lately – well, obviously. Mopes around all day, doesn’t really leave his house that often. I reckon he’s more hurt than angry.” He squints over at the cheerleaders, half-heartedly returning a pity smile that Cher has given him. “Give him time, is all. Li’s stubborn as hell; he’ll come around and you’ll get your _happily ever after_ or summat.”  
  
  
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Louis says, leaning back and turning his face up to the sky. Clouds shield any sun and Louis reckons the sun is feeling exactly how he does at the moment; lost and ignored and left to wither away slowly. “I just got angry and acted on it.”  
  
  
“I know,” Niall shrugs. “You were wrong. He’ll come around, I think. Liam’s all full of _logic_ and he’s _sensible_ and all that bullshit.” Niall nudges Louis with his hip, tries to keep a positive expression on his face. “You could always try an elaborate plan to win him back, yeah?”  
  
  
Louis does nothing but exhale in response, closes his eyes and paints Liam’s warm smile in his mind.  
  
  
+  
  
Zayn stands with his back against the wall outside of the bakery, waiting for Harry’s shift to end. If he leans forward, he can peek through the glass to see inside the bakery, where Harry stands behind the counter. An old woman, her grey hair pulled back in a perfect bun and glasses perched on her nose, rings a customer out, and Harry leans against the counter, removing his apron. Zayn smiles a bit, knowing that there will be flour in his hair and on his cheeks, chocolate smeared all over his wrists and shirt.  
  
  
Harry waves goodbye to the old woman, hangs his apron up and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. His face pulls together tightly, as Zayn imagined it would when he sent Harry the text. He watches as Harry contemplates going out through the back door. His shoulders heave and he pushes the glass door open, green eyes meeting Zayn’s.  
  
  
“Hi,” Zayn says shyly, and wants to kick himself, because now is not the time to be shy. He gestures to his phone, shoves his hands in his pocket and looks at Harry. “I see you’ve gotten my text. Do you have time to talk?”  
  
  
Harry’s wearing Zayn’s favorite t-shirt of his – the Ramones one – and his jeans are sagging. He pulls them up a bit, scuffs his sneaker and looks everywhere but at Zayn. In this brief moment, Harry looks young and hurt, and Zayn wants to scream his apologies from the tops of buildings, string his sorry’s across the night sky to convey how bad he feels.  
  
  
Harry lets his shoulders drop and scratches at the corner of his mouth. “What’s this about, Zayn?” His voice is slow, steady and he finally looks right at Zayn, eyes gleaming with anger.  
  
  
He steps closer to Harry, reaches out and curls a hand around Harry’s wrist. Harry retracts at his touch, tries to turn away but Zayn steps closer. “This is about apologizing,” He says, voice low. “This is about admitting when I’ve been wrong. This is about admitting that I’ve treated you _horribly_ , and this is about making things right.”  
  
  
Harry looks down and his eyelashes are thick and Zayn wants to kiss him, square on the mouth. He looks up, wriggles his wrist out of Zayn’s grasp and takes a step back. “Yeah,” He sighs, distant smile twisting its way on his lips. “I have time to talk.”  
  
  
+  
  
  
Liam sits on his bed, wrapped in a blanket. He hasn’t put any lights on, just stares blankly ahead as _500 Days of Summer_ plays on the television. The tea his mum has made for him is now cold, sits forgotten on his bedside table and his sandwich lies on a plate, not a bite taken out of it.  
  
  
His phone buzzes and he looks down at it, a text from Louis. He feels obligated to shut his phone off and chuck it across his bedroom, but against his better judgment he opens it, pulling the phone closer to his face.  
  
  
 _Remember the day at the bakery?  
  
  
_ Liam scrunches up his face, thinks _No, Louis, I’ve blocked that out of my memory and thanks to you, it’s back_ until he hears the first sound. The sounds increase and he looks around his room, notices that they’re coming from the window. Getting out of bed and throwing a long, white sleeved shirt on, he pulls his curtains back and peers down.  
  
  
Louis stands, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a rock, head tilted up to look at Liam’s room. Liam stares at him, wide-eyed, and Louis raises a hand, waves before beckoning him to come down. He slips on some shoes, slinks down the stairs and does his best to close the door quietly behind him, making sure to leave it unlocked to avoid a future crisis.  
  
  
They get into Louis’ car and he starts driving, not saying anything for a long time. Liam stares out the window, refusing to say the first word when he’s done nothing to deserve any of this. The entire car ride is quiet until they reach a street, and Louis hands Liam a black rag.  
  
  
“Okay, tie this around your eyes,” He instructs.  
  
  
Liam throws him the dirtiest look he can muster. “I’m not going to be a part of any of your _inappropriate_ fantasies.” He thinks up the nastiest thing he can muster, and spits it through his teeth. “What, is _Zayn_ not into _bondage_?”  
  
  
Louis laughs and it only infuriates Liam more. He folds his arms and looks out the window, and Louis reaches out to lightly touch his arm. “I wouldn’t know, because I told Zayn that he and I should probably leave each other alone,” Louis sits back in his seat. “Told him to fix things with Harry, because we were both being proper dicks to the people we care about.”  
  
  
Liam says nothing and Louis sighs, slumps against the window. “You see, Liam – when you like someone a lot, it sort of overwhelms you. Personally, I feel like my chest is going to swell so much that I’ll burst or float away. And when you like someone a lot – and that person starts to ignore you, and you can’t wrap your mind around _why_ – you do stupid things, like hooking up with someone another one of your friends likes.”  
  
  
“Well, thanks for that PSA,” Liam snipes, and his hands search to exit the car. “I think I’ll be on my way, take a bus or something.”  
  
  
“Liam, can you just do me this one favor?” He holds out the black rag. “Can you just tie this around your eyes?”  
  
  
“Fine,” Liam snatches it away from Louis and ties it around his head. “But if I’m murdered or left to die, my family will come looking for me, and I reckon Niall and Harry and maybe even Zayn will too.”  
  
  
“Awesome,” Louis quips. “I’ll leave the gun in the car, then.”  
  
  
He’s steering Liam into a building, turns him around and holds his shoulders. “You stand here and don’t move, alright?” Louis’ voice is distant, and Liam is getting nervous but won’t let it show. “I’ll tell you when to take off the blindfold.” Liam hears a few sounds and wherever they are seems to get brighter. “Okay, you can take it off.”  
  
  
He’s standing in the middle of the dance floor at Abbott’s, and Louis is standing onstage, a microphone stand placed in front of him. There’s a bright white spotlight shining directly on him and he holds up a key, grinning. He looks good in just a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, and the spotlight makes his hair look soft and shiny.  
  
  
He presses something with a clicker, tosses it into the wings and music fills the club. A slow, familiar tune floats towards Liam and he takes a step forward, his breath caught in his throat.  
  
  
“ _Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can’t help, falling in love with you,_ ” Louis’ eyes are closed and Liam can only stare. “ _Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can’t help, falling in love with you.”  
  
  
_ If Liam closes his eyes, he can picture his back against the wall, Louis’ lips on his. He can take himself back to that night, when everything was so perfect, before it all fell apart. “ _Like a river flows surely to the sea. Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be._ ” Louis grins and Liam smiles back, remembers the venom that had found its way into Louis’ words when he told Liam that some people aren’t meant to be that night at his house. “ _Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can’t help, falling in love with you._ ”  
  
  
Liam rushes the stage, pushes the microphone stand out of his way and presses his mouth to Louis. Liam can’t stop kissing him, can’t get enough of Louis’ lips, trying to make up for time lost being angry at one another. His hands tangled in Louis’ hair, Liam pulls back and presses his forehead to Louis’, smiling.  
  
  
“Ah, so,” Louis breathes. “Am I forgiven?”  
  
  
Liam is at a loss for words, so he answers Louis with a kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

_I love you in a place where there’s no space or time_  
I love you for in my life, you are a friend of mine  
And when my life is over, remember when we were together  
We were alone and I was singing this song for you  
  
  
Liam sits on Harry’s couch, Louis’ head in his lap. His eyes flutter shut and a sleepy smile stretches across his face as Liam’s fingers comb through his hair.  
  
  
Zayn throws a pillow at them, and it hits Louis in the face. “You look like a puppy right now, mate,” He laughs, wrapping an arm around Harry and pulling him into his side.  
  
  
“I wish someone would pet my hair,” Harry pouts.  
  
  
Louis sits up, reaches over to pinch Harry’s cheeks. “Life isn’t fair,” He teases, but Zayn works his fingers through Harry’s curls anyways. Harry grins, closes his eyes and tries not to purr.  
  
  
Liam sits back, tries not to let an embarrassingly large grin spread across his face as he watches his four closest mates wrestle around with one another. He tries to remember a year ago, when he barely knew Louis and the five of them were all individual people with different personalities. He smirks at their twisted story and how it spiraled them closer and closer until they became a unit, never leaving each other’s sides.  
  
  
Niall pulls out his guitar and starts strumming away, belting out “Wonderwall” by Oasis. Louis shoots Liam a coy grin, and they all join in one by one, singing the song in its entirety before collapsing back on the couch, out of breath.  
  
  
“Not so bad, boys!” Harry grins.  
  
  
Liam wants to hug every single one of them at once, pull them into his sides and never let go. He loves the way Niall is so carefree and relaxed, and how he’s always stuck by Liam’s side, since day one. Zayn’s mellow way of approaching everything, how he can string together a sentence so simple that will answer all of your questions, leaving you bewildered as to why you were asking them in the first place. Harry’s cheeky grin and the way he looks at Liam for reassurance, how they are each other’s support system.  
  
  
And finally Louis, who is the closest to Liam’s heart as anybody could ever get. How their highs and lows balance each other out, how Louis knows when to push Liam forward through his stubbornness and when to ease off of him. The way Louis can read his face without Liam having to speak a word, and the way Louis curls into Liam before a kiss.  
  
  
“We sounded good,” Niall strums some more on the guitar, pushes it aside.  
  
  
“That we did,” Louis agrees. “Hey, lads – I’ve got an idea!”  
  
  
They all look at him, expressions varying from interested to questioning to nonchalance.  
  
  
“Let’s start a band, shall we?” Louis grins.


End file.
